


i've been waiting for you

by cinderlily



Category: Crooked Media RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Sappy, campaign era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 17:12:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15645252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderlily/pseuds/cinderlily
Summary: The first time that Jon felt it was the night he met Lovett, but to be fair he met so many people that night that there was no reason for him to suspect the short guy from the opposition. He barely even noticed that he HAD felt it, actually, just a weird warm buzz in his chest that seemed to follow him through the entire debate. He chalked it up to the winning points but then when it ebbed and then evaporated as he entered his hotel room made him pause. Then he fell face forward onto his bed and forgot by the next morning.





	i've been waiting for you

**Author's Note:**

> All my love to anatomical_heart for the beta. They are amazing and awesome and I love them. I had sepsis in July and writing has been extremely hard for me, so they held my hand through a lot of this self-doubt.

Jon had been uncomfortable for a bulk of the night. His skin felt too tight around him, he was buzzing with adrenaline that he had thought he was prepared for but obviously was not and he had the problem of not being able to focus on the things around him. Tommy, blessedly, was at his back for most of the night and kept him circulating. 

It was the first debate. The pressure was on and he knew that was a good chunk of what was happening. He had made sure to stop mainlining coffee early enough in the day that he wasn’t actually vibrating, and he had had a few beers with dinner. Frankly, it wasn’t like he was needed much after the final meeting. 

They weren’t separated into rooms, which he had expected. So all of the different candidates crews were milling about and watching the debate on a large screen in the green room. Or supposedly watching. Frankly, they were talking more than they were watching. Jon thought he would spend the night with his nose to the screen but he just didn’t. 

Somewhere a few hours back he had found that he was feeling something unfamiliar. It started as this weird tingling in the tips of his fingers. For a second he wondered if he was buzzed, except… He was a proud Massachusetts boy, two beers wasn’t giving him a buzz. Then as the night progressed it felt like an itch at the back of his brain, a fact he couldn’t quite put his finger on. 

At one point, when Tommy was talking to a group of guys he didn’t know, it spread to his chest. It felt like he’d just finished a good long run and gotten laid in the same moment, but without the exhaustion. 

The only problem was, at the end of the night, it felt like everything was almost complete but then fell short. An unresolved sneeze. He’d figured it was just one kind of high of the game. They’d done well at the debate. Barack had been clear and decisive. 

He fell asleep wondering why it felt so bad. 

That was the night he’d met Lovett. 

*

He continued to feel it. Again and again. Each debate making him feel like he was on some weird high he couldn’t quite explain. Win or lose, and there were plenty of losses, he still felt it. Followed by a let down he couldn’t explain.

The first time he tried to bring it up to anybody, it got glossed over. Tommy looked at him strangely, like he was trying to parse out just what he was saying and then took a long pull of beer and nudged him. 

“Adrenaline, Favs, get over it.” 

Tommy was most definitely not the best with feelings. He was beginning to understand that. He finished his beer, the glow in his chest evaporating by the moment. He had begun to dread the feeling, as the loss of it was almost like depression. 

The second time he tried to describe it was on a brief break from the grind in LA. He and Andy were in the same city for the same time in longer than he could remember and he was giddy with the feeling of it. They’d had their problems, like most siblings he assumed, but there was comfort in family. 

“So, you go to these big debates and get like a chest boner?” 

His brother was nothing if not eloquent. He nudged him, _hard_. 

“Not a _chest boner_ , dude. Like. Warmth. It feels … good. Really good. And then I leave and it feels like I’m not quite right anymore.” 

Andy smirked over his box of fries. “Jonathan, just giving me the easy lobs today.” 

“Why the fuck did I bring this up with you?” he sighed, looking down at his plate to avoid the fact that he was blushing in front of his 23-year-old brother. “You have the depth of a teaspoon.” 

“You wound me,” Andy dramatically put his hand on his chest. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were bonding, bro.” 

The small restaurant they were in tilted on its axis and he had to hold on to the table as he choked on the fry he’d just tried to swallow. After a long moment and two gulps of his soda, he got himself organized enough to stumble out a question. “What the fuck?” 

“ _Bonding_ ,” his brother enunciated. “You know. That ‘made for each other’ bullshit I hope to star in many films about. One soul, two bodies. Meant to be. Fate. Kismet…” 

“Shut up.” 

Andy raised an eyebrow and let out a low laugh. “Come on, you know that’s mostly bullshit. It’s rare as hell. It happens once in what? Ten thousand couples? Jamie and Lucas from your grade bonded. It’s statistically low. Don’t get your panties in a twist. It’s probably adrenaline.”

Jon had experienced adrenaline before. It was not the sensation he was feeling. Also that was categorically not how statistics worked. 

He exhaled and took a sip of his drink. “Yeah, adrenaline.” 

* 

The next debate he felt... nothing. It was strange. He walked into the building in the morning prepped to feel the beginnings of it, a mixture of anticipation and anxiety, and was met with just the regular feeling of a town hall type situation. There was stress, exhaustion, more stress, someone shoving paper work in his face and Barack telling him to rewrite something. 

He tried to focus on everything at hand, mostly succeeding. He’d gone most of his life without the feeling, so what would really be changed by the fact that it was not there? Except, the distraction made him feel like he was always a step behind everyone else in the room and he hated it. It was like an itch in the back of his mind. 

Tommy caught up with him an hour or so before the debate. “Have you eaten?” 

“I was sitting next to you,” Jon said, rubbing at his eyebrows.

"You look sick," Tommy backed away slightly. "Stay away from me, Lovett already has a cold, last thing I need is your germs getting into the mix." 

Jon stopped himself from deliberately coughing on Tommy just for spite. “I’m not sick. I’m just tired. Who’s Lovett again?”

“The other Jon? Well, one of them. You met him on the night of the first debate. He works for Hillary.” 

“A guy who works for Hillary?” Jon rubbed at his face. “You sure know your descriptors. You should work on the speeches with us.” 

Tommy rolled his eyes. “Short, dark hair, kind of loud… gay?” 

Jon thought back to the first night and an image popped into his brain. To say he ‘met’ him was an overstatement. They were introduced in passing, in a group. He hadn’t even shaken his hand. But he did remember a short dark haired guy that Tommy had pointed to. Lovett had nodded at him and smiled, said something that made Jon laugh. 

For a split second Jon wanted to rethink the whole sick thing, as his stomach churned hard. The Chinese food they’d all scarfed down an hour before settling weird in his stomach. There was nothing remarkable about that meeting … and yet? He felt his whole body go rigid at the memory. 

“Dude,” Tommy took a step back. “If you throw up on me I’m going to punch you. I’ll get Kyle to give you a ride back to the hotel.”

Jon shook his head. “I’m fine. I’m fine. Just exhausted.” 

“You don’t look fine.” 

He forced a smile. “You sure know how to pump up a guy’s ego.”

“Your ego is big enough,” Tommy said, but then he made a face that was less annoyed and more, what appeared to be, genuinely concerned. “Let Kyle take you back. You don’t **have** to be here.” 

Jon thought about it for a minute, picturing his bed and being able to curl up on his side for a while but shook it off. “Nah, I’m here. Let me just get through it.” 

Tommy seemed dubious but shrugged. “Come on then, we got to go over the talking points. Again.” 

“Oh gee, I wonder if we’ll talk about healthcare.”

At least that got him a chuckle. 

*

He felt the weird warmth spreading in his chest just a few seconds before the door to the hotel opened. There was loud noise from outside. Reporters asking staffers questions way above their pay grade. (It was kind of funny, and Tommy said one day he’d respond.) But their staff were already milling around the lobby.

He stood up to check things out and saw a dozen or so haggard-looking people in varying dress types, some in suits but most in down time shirts and jeans. Something in his chest began to ache, low and unfamiliar. He started to move towards the group without his brain thinking anything through. 

“Favs?” he heard from Carrie the one who handled the keys, but he ignored her.  
Tommy said something too, but as he got closer his ears started to fuzz out. He didn’t know if he felt like he was about to get sick or if he had butterflies in his stomach. Freaking _butterflies_ , like he was 13 and Sara Towner had asked him if he wanted to see a movie with her. 

The group paused in their tracks as they looked from each other towards Jon and he realized he must look deranged. He was dressed down, just jeans and a ‘YES WE CAN’ shirt and walking at them with an unknown purpose. One of the guys made a face at him. 

Except then they parted a little and he saw him, Lovett, standing there completely slack jawed. He didn’t look dazed, but he did look pale. Jon wondered if he felt it too, because as soon as he saw Lovett everything cleared. The feeling in his stomach. The haze and the confusion. All gone. He had one single purpose:

Get to Lovett. 

Lovett took a step forward just as Jon almost made it to him. It was probably a good thing because Jon had no idea what he was supposed to do next. He wasn’t really working above lizard brain level. Lovett put a hand out and Jon laughed. It was so weird. Everything was so weird. 

He took it. 

“Hi,” he practically hummed. 

The feeling almost knocked him down. He felt the warm feeling in his chest spread out towards the hand that was making contact and his fingers tingled. He wiggled them, just to get a little more contact. 

Lovett, who’d been staring at their hands, looked back at him. “Ffffuck, you?” 

He laughed again. That was one for his brother to sneak in a movie. 

A hand landed on his shoulder and he practically hissed. It felt… wrong. To be touched by someone else at that moment. He shrugged it off and half turned to find a very perturbed looking Tommy. 

“You okay Favs?”

How was he supposed to answer that? 

“Jesus your pupils are blown,” Tommy blinked at him. Then looked down at his and Lovett’s hands, where Jon realized they had gone from holding them to holding each other’s forearms. “Holy shit.” 

*

A few minutes and some pushing and shoving on the behalf of people Jon didn’t know later, they were in a room. Whose it was was beyond Jon’s knowledge, as was how long they’d been there. He kind of half thought it might be his as his bag was in the corner but there was a huge as hell backpack and a small red bag with it so he wasn’t sure what was true. Tommy, Carrie, two guys he knew were on the Clinton campaign and a rather tall woman were standing around them. 

He and Lovett were seated on the one bed in the room. Lovett looked like he felt as he confused as Jon did. Or maybe he was feeling Lovett’s confusion. He didn’t know why, but like hearing music from someone else’s headphones he felt this second layer of feelings. He went inward as much as possible, prodding the sensation and getting slowly better results. He tried to picture turning a radio up, but it didn’t help. He tried to send his feelings in loud bursts. Lovett returned the favor and it helped, a little. 

The standing group were fighting. He ignored it. He was trying to focus on the concept of soulmates. The one time they covered it in Health class. it was so ridiculously passed over and ignored he had been paying attention and still knew little of what things were true and what was schoolyard spin. 

Apparently the immediate need for touch thing was true, as he had only let go of Lovett for about three seconds since leaving the lobby and felt like he was going to puke. He couldn’t remember how long they had to sustain contact but he was pretty sure he didn’t want to tempt fate for a while. The whole mind-reading bit was up in the air. He’d always thought it was instantaneous but… nope. Even when he had tried thinking hard about something to get Lovett’s attention nothing happened. He just felt things. Like the confusion. A little anxiety. And maybe the desire to pee? He hoped the last one was just mental as he had no idea how to cross that bridge. 

They were holding hands again, skin pressed along each others arms. The one time he’d lost contact with Lovett was to take off his shirt, teaching him the importance of skin contact in the beginning. He was thankful for the expanse of skin but sitting half naked in front of angry people was not his idea of a good time. 

(Though Lovett’s muttering of, “Jesus Christ, yeah. Sure, that’s fair.” had almost been worth it.) 

“Uh guys,” Lovett spoke up from beside him. The group didn’t flinch so he said it again. They still didn’t move. 

“YO,” Favs bellowed and the group halted. 

Lovett looked at him just long enough to mouth ‘yo?’ in a disgusted manner, then turned to the group. “Can we be included in this?” 

The tall woman blinked at both of them like she just remembered they were there. She looked from Jon to Lovett and her face slowly broke into a forced smile, the amount of teeth he could see reminding him of pageant contestants. 

“Mr. Favreau, Mr. Lovett,” she said. “My name is Dr. Greta Moscowitz. I am a doctor who works at Des Moines University. Mr. Vietor called me. I specialize in the study of soulmates.” 

Favs bristled and Lovett squeezed their interlocked fingers. “Yeah, so?” 

Dr. Moscowitz blinked at Lovett, her smile faltering for just a second. “I’m here to help you with your bond.” 

“How does yelling at those guys help? Keep in mind I don’t care if you yell at them. Please, feel free, they probably deserve it.” 

Jon laughed and it felt weirdly good, something echoing in his chest. The smile on Lovett’s face, small and self-satisfied, felt even better. The doctor coughed to get their attention, which was fair as he was pretty sure he’d momentarily forgotten others were there. 

“I apologize for my behavior. It seems we are in a little bit of a situation here. The two of you working for what are opposite sides presents a lot of questions and your colleagues were just asking questions. But you’re right. I should be more focused on you right now.” 

She turned away from them, which Jon thought was a little funny to do after saying she would focus on them, but then he saw her grab the red bag and bring it over. It looked like an vintage briefcase, and when she opened it he saw what seemed to be standard medical gear, but with duplicates and a fair bit of medication. He wasn’t one to be scared of needles but as soon as he saw one his stomach leapt. He looked over at Lovett, whose eyes were wide. 

“It’s fine.” He muttered, and received a side-eye that could make a flower wilt. “Or not.” 

She had grabbed a stethoscope, warming it for them before looking to them. “Okay, now to get your vitals.” 

She went through the motions of any number of check-ups that Jon had in his lifetime, only this time it was multiplied. He had his blood pressure checked, it was lower than usual. He had his temperature checked, which he had no idea how that would be affected. They did end up getting blood drawn, which was fine for him but he half-expected Lovett to pass out. He closed his eyes and thought of all the things that could possibly make Lovett laugh, and was surprised when a warm thrill ran up his spine.

Neither of them talked during it, unless asked direct questions, but there was a slow surge of feelings back and forth that Jon was beginning to recognize as Lovett’s rather than his. Calm, anxiety, happiness, fear. All flowed back and forth like they shared nerve endings. 

“Well,” Dr. Moscowitz smiled, with a lot less teeth this time. “You both have a lot to talk about, I would suspect. Do you have any questions for me?” 

“Will they be able to read each other’s minds?” One of the guys from the Clinton campaign butted in. 

Dr. Moscowitz turned her head and sighed. “For the last time, yes. But not for a few days and I cannot tell you whether or not it will affect their ability to keep you are so afraid of from each other.” 

“Secrets?” Jon asked. 

Tommy sighed. “They’re afraid we’re going to steal their soooooper secret plans to steal the election.” 

“It’s not a joke,” the guy snapped. 

“Lay off it Mark,” Lovett sniped. “We both know each other’s playbooks well enough.” 

Mark huffed. 

Dr. Moscowitz blessedly finished packing up her bag and looked at the four other people in the room. “Now it’s time for you all to go. There is nothing to be done for the moment and they need… _privacy_.” 

Jon caught the face Tommy made and it made him laugh. “Go away Vietor.” 

“Use a condom, Favs.” 

Carrie gaped openly at Tommy. Mark and the other guy seemed to go a little pale. Dr. Moscowitz frowned. 

“It’s actually better for the skin contact, though if you have any concerns about STDs…” 

“WE’RE GOOD,” Lovett interrupted, and Jon felt his own face going red. 

Seemingly satisfied without having to deal with the conversation any longer, the group disbanded. Dr. Moscowitz gave them her card and told them to call her if anything cropped up and that they should get to a doctor closer to them when they got home. The problem being, really, that neither had a home per se. They were on the road. They were busy. And they were in two separate campaign buses. 

The door shutting seemed to echo in the room. Jon was suddenly caught off guard by three facts: that the two of them had yet to be actually alone together, they were half naked and frankly he had no idea what to do or say. 

He blinked at Lovett who stared back at him, his skin pink on the cheeks, the tips of his ears and even the collar of his neck. The collar which was frankly… really gorgeous. It had the nice little dips in it, the ones Jon had always liked to run his tongue along. 

“Dude,” Lovett said through his teeth. “Stop thinking like that for like half a second.” 

Jon blinked to attention. “Sorry?” 

Lovett let out a snort. “A hot guy is oogling me, please feel free to apologize.” 

“You think I’m hot?” Jon smirked. 

“Like you don’t own a freaking mirror,” Lovett rolled his eyes. 

Jon didn’t preen _exactly_. “Do _you_ own a mirror?” 

His chest felt something he couldn’t decipher as a feeling, clearly not his own. It didn’t feel good exactly, it felt… weird. A little sad, a little happy and angry. He wanted to push the feeling back but Lovett shook his head. 

“We need to talk,” he said. “Like. Reality-wise.” 

Jon pushed his tongue to the back of his teeth. He knew just as well as Lovett that they needed to talk but he really didn’t want to. If he had a choice he would much rather jump into the center of a press conference with a sign saying “I have Obama’s birth certificate” than have the inevitably uncomfortable talk they were going to need to have. 

“Come on, Favs,” Lovett said. “You’re supposed to be smart. What are we supposed to do? Divorce this thing out? Clinton during the week, Obama on the weekends and every other Wednesday?” 

“Why do we get the weeks with your boss?” Jon asked. 

Lovett frowned. “Do you honestly remember the difference between weeks and weekends anymore?” 

Jon shrugged. Fair enough. “You could leave the campaign and join ours? I’m sure Obama would be glad for more input.” 

“Why am I going to quit when Hillary is going to win?” 

“Ouch.”

Lovett sighed and rubbed at his face with his free hand. “We could both quit and move to a beet farm in Kansas.” 

“Kansas is a red state, for no apparently good reason. I’m not living in a red state.” 

“You’re not taking this seriously, Jon.” 

Jon frowned and sighed. “We have a week till the polls, Lovett. Do you want to spend the whole week worrying or do you want to spend sometime… _not_?” 

He thought of Lovett’s neck again, his tongue darting out quickly and he felt something nice in return. He leaned in and hesitated just before he touched Lovett’s lips, letting Lovett bridge that gap. 

To say that the kiss was something out of a movie would be an understatement. He never believed in that ‘happily ever after’ crap in soulmate movies, but if one single moment could be happily ever after it was that one. 

His nerve endings thrummed everywhere, he became so aware of every single thing about Lovett. The shape of his lips against Jon’s. The way his pulse quickened against where Jon’s fingers were on Lovett’s skin. The small intake of breath. Everything tilted and then tilted back. He deepened the kiss, moving his hands into Lovett’s hair and tugging at the short curls. 

Suddenly Lovett pushed against him. He furrowed his brows and went back towards him but Lovett shook his head. 

“Wait, wait. I’ve gotta pee.” 

*

A few hours later, after Jon stood behind Lovett with his back turned but his and on his upper arm as he peed, they were curled around each other. Sweaty and sharing a bottle of water that cost way too much, they decided they needed to take a break if for nothing more than food and actually talking. The weird haze had ebbed, as had the need for continuous touching, though mostly they kept up contact as much as they could. 

“Favorite movie?” 

Lovett made a face. “I hate small talk.” 

“Well, I just met my soulmate, excuse me if I’m a little interested in them not being a stranger,” Jon kicked him under the covers. It felt weird to be so close to him and not be kissing him. He had to keep his hands from roaming too much because he was afraid it would distract them from their objective. 

“You just fucked me into the mattress, I think we can say we know each other. At least in the biblical way.” 

Jon giggled, putting his head forward to hit Lovett’s neck and hide his red cheeks. “You know what I mean, Lovett.” 

He pulled back and Lovett looked at him with what could be fondness. “Hi. My name is Jonathan Lovett, I’ll be your soulmate for this lifetime. I’m 24 years old. Grew up on Long Island. Parents are married and moved to Florida because we’re Jewish and we migrate. Sister, older, she is awesome. Her boyfriend is a douche. 

“I work for the future president of America, ow, are your fingernails sharpened?. I like cheesy pop music, weird jazz, weirder old movies and video games. Old, new, doesn’t matter. I will kick your ass at Tetris or, if necessary, Halo.” 

Jon laughed. 

“And I like that you laugh at my jokes. It makes me feel better than when whole rooms laugh at my jokes.” 

“Whole rooms?” 

Lovett smiled ruefully. “I tried stand up.” 

“How’d you do?” 

He got a raised eyebrow. “Exceptional, I’m on my world tour… Now your turn.” 

Seeking the excuse to move on from his stupid question (“How’d you do?”, fuck he was dumb after sex), he thought for a second. “I’m Jon Favreau, not that one. People call me Favs for obvious reasons. Grew up outside of Boston, with parents and a younger brother who wants to be an actor. 

“I write speeches for Barack Obama, the next president of the United States. I like non-fiction books, can handle pop music and I would take you up on that Halo challenge.” 

It was quiet for a long moment and even without the small thread of anxiety being pushed to his chest just what was on Lovett’s mind. He inhaled and exhaled, bracing for what was going to be said. 

“What the hell are we going to do?” 

Jon frowned. He genuinely hated how small Lovett sounded, more than he thought it possible. He wished he had the answer. Hell, he wished he had a believable lie, but he had neither. Instead he kissed the nearest part of Lovett’s skin, which ended up being his shoulder blade. 

“We make it work.” 

“Thanks Tim Gunn.” 

“Who?” 

Lovett pulled back. “Are you joking? I don’t even watch America’s Top Model… are you like a monk? Do you watch TV?” 

“I own a TV. It’s packed in a box in the apartment I’ve slept in twice.” 

“We need a plan.” 

Jon breathed deeply, trying to be as zen as possible to combat the flow of anxiety coming off of Lovett. “We live parallel lives right now. We’ll be in the same cities more often than not. We make that work in the short term and then whoever gets out of the primaries we make it work in the long term. I know this soulmate thing is chemistry or biology or whatever the hell, but… I’m in, Lovett. I’m all in.” 

Some of the anxiety dripped away, although not all of it. Jon turned himself enough to give Lovett a long lingering kiss. He marveled at the way his body felt settled in the way it hadn’t for months. He pulled back and looked at Lovett. 

“So, what do you say?” 

Lovett rubbed his lips together. “Kiss me again.” 

Jon laughed but complied. 

“Well, fuck. I guess I’m in too.”

**Author's Note:**

> "Cause life's so hard  
> But life's alright  
> Because I'm here with you tonight  
> Making it up  
> We're making it all up." -Jason Mraz


End file.
